


galih, this sucks.

by arklie



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Maggots, bc. yknow. corruption avatar, just two avatar buds hangin out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24391582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arklie/pseuds/arklie
Summary: Dumb patients and an even dumber friend are just a part of Anne's routine.
Relationships: Original Buried Avatar & Original Corruption Avatar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	galih, this sucks.

**Author's Note:**

> written may 26th
> 
> THIS IS SO BAD. GOD. i'm not happy with this but i am Dying at least it's something and i filled my goal. how do you close ficlets. boy i die!!!!!!!!
> 
> cast: [anne, galih](https://toyhou.se/5758699.anne-thesis)

“What a waste.”

Disappointment runs thick within her words, feeling the pulse under her palm disappear without a trace. Her hands wet from the blood of the dissected corpse on the operation table, the flesh under her hand decays from where she had touched it. There’s movement under her skin, as hundreds of countless maggots crawl out from the holes they’d carved in her flesh, invading the freshly-made dead body.

At least he makes a good meal.

“People don’t know what’s best for them,” she croaks. The writhing rot listens, the squirming maggots on and under her skin. “If it hits them in the face.”

And they agree, if the song they sing is anything to go by. They don’t speak by words, not anymore, but Anne had long ago learned how to understand. She would not be their most lovely hive, otherwise.

The rumble of the ground beneath her feet is no longer a surprise. Familiar. A guest is incoming. Still, she holds the gurney with a rotting hand for good measure, just so it wouldn’t roll off and throw the body to the floor haphazardly.

The wall in front of her splits open, like an automatic door of a crowded mall she no longer visits. Between them, a familiar figure stands—short and stout and as corpse-like as she is, what beneath vir skin is no longer flesh and blood, she knows.

Ve seems surprised, looking down to stare at the gurney in vir way. “You did a bit of redecorating.”

Indeed, the gurney doesn’t usually sit against that particular wall. The both of them had agreed that it would be Galih’s door whenever the Buried servant would wish to visit.

“Only temporarily,” Anne says, wiping the blood on whatever remains of the shirt of the freshly rotten body. “Idiotic patients. You know how it is.”

“Ah.” Galih’s brows perk up, hand gently pushing the gurney aside for vir to properly walk into the cubical room. The wall rumbles and closes behind vir. “Another failure?”

“I never fail.” There’s offense in her eye as she shoots vir a glare. “They simply refused to comply.”

“Of course you don’t.” Galih only hums affirmatively, a pleasant smile on vir face as ve walks around her, settling to stand by her side. Anne raises a brow as ve closes the distance between them. “You’re my lovely little doctor. No one appreciates you enough.”

She exhales a laugh from hole-riddled lungs—one ve does not have. “I’m taller than you.”

“ _ Smaller,”  _ ve insists, and the room gets smaller as ve pats Anne roughly on the back. She winces, frail rotten bones and all.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to stop you here.” She returns the hit lamely on the top of vir head, hand only skin and bones. “I don’t wish to indulge in the wishes of the Buried at the time.” Facing particularly stubborn visitors drain a lot of her energy, and she’s not sure she’d be able to handle physical pressure alongside the mental one.

Galih pouts with the most miserable, most fake face she had seen that day. “Aww.” Yet, ve releases vir hold of the room anyways, returning it to its size. “Rough day?”

She glances at the body, already half-rotten. “Same old.” Being  _ doubted  _ for what she knows best always hits so rough. She takes a breath she doesn’t need—little leftover reflex. She runs a thumb across the series of holes on her upper arm, arms crossed. “You look like you had a nice dinner yourself,” she says instead, “Why don’t you tell me about it.”

“Yeah! Of course.” Galih lights up, the earthy brown of vir eyes sparkling in delight at the prompt. The quiet of the room is filled with the sounds of rotten flesh devoured by countless of Anne’s maggots, and Galih’s voice. “Underground train feast always has something different to it.”

She raises a brow.

“Something about Subway.”


End file.
